


Amalgamation

by Escopeta



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 12:21:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escopeta/pseuds/Escopeta
Summary: A collection of Jasico prompts.Feel free to send me one or multiple prompt ideas! At the beginning of each chapter, there will be a section for technical information like ratings as well as any warnings if need be.Happy reading!





	Amalgamation

 

 

**CAUTION:** This first chapter contains spoilers for my Jasico fic _Homebound_ as it’s an alternate ending. If you don’t want to be spoiled, please scroll all the way down to my author’s notes at the end of this installment. Otherwise, happy reading!

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

> **Prompt:** Alternate ending to _Homebound._ **  
> Rating:** T  
>  **Warnings:** Major Character Death

 

 

 

He would’ve preferred to have died on the hill from the manticore.

“I’m sorry, Nico,” Will says, looking genuinely sympathetic. “Believe me, we did everything we could but…” 

_It’s not your fault_ , is what he wants to reply, but Nico can’t get any words to leave his mouth. He just stares up at the infirmary’s ceiling, swallowing any sounds threatening to push forward. He doesn’t like crying in front of people. But he can’t help the tears that drip down his cheeks anyway, or his quivering lip. 

He thinks he heard the Fates’ decisive _snip_ of their scissors through Jason’s string, just before waking up. 

“Not fair,” he starts, scrunching his eyes shut. “It’s not fucking fair. It’s not,” he says weakly. His voice is small, and he reaches up to cover his face with his arms. But the restraints don’t let him, so he just bites his lip instead. 

Will doesn’t mention the crying. He just sits by him, trying to softly convince him he needs to eat whatever is on the food tray. 

“You killed the manticore,” he tries, smiling awkwardly. “That’s—at least it’s dead.” 

He gives a single, bitter laugh, swallowing a sob. “Yeah, and so is Jason.” 

  
* * * * *  
 

Apollo gives him permission to see the body after just three days, but Nico can’t bring himself to do it. He doesn’t want to see Jason pale and cold, his body utterly stiff. He can no longer feel his soul on the mortal plane anyway. Why torture himself? That’s not the image he wants—not how he wants to remember his boyfriend. 

The guy he never got the chance to say, ‘I love you’ to. 

Nico speaks little over the course of his recovery. Will can’t always come to monitor him, so one of his siblings does. A few are a little scared of what he’d done to the manticore and the hillside, but most pity him as he stares at the wall or the bedsheets. He can tell by the silence whenever they come, or the tone they _do_ speak to him with, like a parent gently trying to explain to their kid their pet goldfish died. 

But he’s not a kid. Hasn’t been one since Bianca died. 

He’s allowed to leave the room for the funeral. All his friends are there, but he doesn’t remember ever getting a notice about it. Thalia takes it the hardest (he’s never seen her cry before—she’s an angry crier), yet she doesn’t once blame Nico for not protecting her baby brother. Piper is the only other person who weeps as hard as Thalia, maybe because she had once loved Jason—or at least, was the closest to him after Nico. Leo tries his hardest to stay strong, but he ends up cursing under his breath as his eyes water. Reyna holds her girlfriend in a tight embrace, rubbing her hand along Piper’s back. 

Percy doesn’t cry. He also doesn’t make any jokes; only looks onward as Annabeth tries her best to comfort Thalia. Hazel is really the only one who has the courage to approach Nico right now. Frank stands by idly, glaring at the ground with his fists clenched at his sides. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers through her sobs, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Nico….” 

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbles in monotone. “Not your fault.” 

This is his fault. His fault for thinking the world would be kind to him this once—just this _one time._ But he should know by now Nico di Angelo doesn’t get happy endings. Children of Hades rarely do. 

He leads the funeral, being the most sensitive to death and the afterlife. Surprisingly, nobody patronizes or blames him for Jason dying. They only listen as he explains Jason is finally resting, because being a demigod of Zeus is one of the hardest things to be born as. 

“You have a lot of responsibility expected of you, and he was so good at being responsible. And kind, and inclusive, gentle, friendly—he hated being put on a pedestal, but I’m serious when I say nobody will ever be better than Jason Grace was. That’s what I believe.” 

At funerals, the ones closest to the deceased say a few words, like a spouse or a parent. Nico is neither, and so Thalia leads the rest of it, and Chiron ends the ceremony. When it’s over, Nico locks himself in his cabin, only letting Hazel in if she wants. 

He can’t sleep. Doesn’t sleep for five days. He wakes up from nightmares of gruesome ways Jason could’ve died instead, Nico powerless to stop it. Either because he’s not there, or he is but his dreamscape makes him disappear before Jason is impaled or decapitated or burned alive—the list goes on. 

The temptation to summon Jason’s spirit always itches at the back of his mind. But it’ll be too painful. He’s a coward. 

When a few more days have passed, Nico decides to head back to the apartment. Somebody needs to look after it. It was theirs to manage together, and now that Jason’s gone, Nico will have to upkeep it himself. 

His friends ask if he’s okay. He sucks at lying, and when he tells them he’s fine, they point out that he’s not. He doesn’t look them in the eye, and his voice holds no emotion. Like he’s staring off at a point they can’t see. 

“Kinda like a zombie,” Percy says. “Nico, we’re here to help if…” 

“I wanna be left alone, please,” he replies weakly. Heat begins to prick at his eyes. “I have to—the apartment needs to be cleaned and…” 

“I’ll go with him,” Thalia says, stepping beside him. “Can’t keep Jason’s things there forever. He’ll need help…,” she swallows, “deciding what to do with stuff.”

Apollo offers to warp them back to the apartment. Nico’s grateful for the small kindness, as he has no energy or willpower to use shadow travel. 

“I truly am sorry for your loss,” the sun god says. For once he isn’t smiling or inserting a boast somewhere about himself. “I wish I could’ve foreseen a different outcome.” 

“We all have our time,” Nico says quietly. “Jason’s just came too soon.” 

Golden light engulfs them, and then they’re in the living room of the apartment. Thalia mentions something about Artemis letting her take more vacation days as she walks to Jason’s room (their room, the one they shared) and packing up some of his things. 

Half of him just wants her to leave everything where it is. He doesn’t want to throw it away. They’re still a part of Jason, even if they’re stupid articles of clothing or his class notebooks full of lecture points. But Thalia has more ‘right’ in this scenario. She was his only family. Nico no longer has that potential hope to be a part of Jason’s family either. 

“Thinking about donating all of this,” she says, taping up another large cardboard box. “Jason wouldn’t want to sell it. The notebooks and stuff—all that stuff that can’t be used again, I guess that can be thrown away.” 

She sits on the box, sighing. Nico slowly folds the last of Jason’s clothes in a new box. “Hey, di Angelo.” 

He looks up at her without saying anything. 

“You still gonna keep this place?” 

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly. “This place holds too many memories. But so does the house in New Rome, and my cabin at Half-Blood, and _his_ cabin there.” 

“Maybe think of going to college,” she suggests. “It’s nearby. I know Jason was excited about you going.” 

“Jason’s not there anymore.” He stands up, lifting the box with him. “I know this might sound pathetic or whatever, but he was my motivation for a lot of things I do or I’ve ever done. Now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me here.” 

“You still have your friends.” 

Nico sets the box on top of the others. They need to start dismantling the furniture next. “I appreciate having friends, but they’re not going to mourn the—my friends don’t and will never understand what Jason meant to me. They’ll never understand how tired I am of hoping, of dreaming, when I know I’m never gonna get it, because that’s just how it is for people like me. I tried really hard, and I thought with Jason things would finally be different.” 

He swallows, taking a breath to force it away. “But I was kidding myself. There’s that saying it’s better to have loved than to have never loved at all. Well, honestly that’s some bullshit. Whoever said that clearly doesn’t know what’s it like to…,” He shakes his head. “The pain of that love being taken away is so _fucking_ terrible, that it’s kinder to not know what that feels like. You’d rather die than know what that feels like. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone.” 

Thalia is silent, and Nico can’t explain to her how much he loved his boyfriend. It’s too embarrassing, even in death. How is he even going to begin talking about his childish notion of believing Jason could’ve been his true love? Or even his soulmate? Only regular mortals get to be that blind and optimistic. Not demigods. 

“If it meant Jason would still be alive and be happy,” he adds, “then I wish he never would’ve been my friend in the first place.” 

It’s the best he can translate it, and Thalia doesn’t pester him anymore about the subject. 

  
* * * * *  
 

Against Hazel and Reyna’s protests, he decides to make permanent residence in the Underworld. 

The ghosts in the palace hallways greet him as they float by, but he doesn’t pay them much mind. His room is mostly empty, as he only stays when he’s too tired to resurface back on the land. All the furniture is lavish and ornate, albeit in a Gothic-esque sense. Typical for how a traditional vampire would live. It almost makes him laugh, but the canopy bed reminds him of Jason’s, and the smile falls before it even has a chance to try. 

He’ll only ever go up to the surface to eat human food. While this place is going to be his home for the rest of his days, he doesn’t want to become a permanent element of the Underworld. Then he can’t see Hazel and Reyna whenever he wants, or his goddaughter Pearl. 

Nico walks to the throne room where his father and Persephone usually are. They’re at the bottom of the dais, speaking with Alecto and some ghosts. He had sent a message to Hades before coming to the Underworld, just to let him know he’s going to be making constant use of his room now. 

“Father,” he starts, bowing, “um, if there’s any missions you want me to go to, just let me know.”

“My son,” Hades dismisses Alecto and the ghosts with a wave of his hand. Persephone glances down at Nico from her divine height, actually looking sad, “are you sure you want to stay here?” 

“Yes. I don’t… well, I’d rather just be doing something productive with my time now. I don’t have anything left for me on the surface, besides Hazel. And she already has a life where…,” he breathes softly, “um, so, if you have anything…” 

“Nico, I won’t be upset if you need some time to mourn. Nor do I expect you to jump on your feet so quickly again.” 

He shakes his head, tears already blinding his vision. “I don’t need—please, just give me something to do.” Nico wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “I just want something—I don’t want to think about it. Please, Father.” He gets down on his knees, pressing his forehead and the palms of his hands on the cold marble floor. “Dad, please, I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to think about how _stupid_ I was to believe that I’m allowed to be happy. That it’s my fault I wasted his time and—please, just assign me something.” 

Unlike most gods, Hades doesn’t berate him for begging. He pauses for a long time, and Nico blinks his tears away, watching them patter onto the floor. They disappear almost instantly. 

“If you can help monitor the souls today,” his father says, “then that would be helpful. You know the line is always long, and it takes what seems like an eternity for it to move smoothly.” 

“Okay,” he swallows his laments, and sniffs his snot away, “I can do that.” Nico gets on his feet, wiping at his eyes. He bows again before hurrying to leave. Persephone still doesn’t say anything, though she looks sad enough that Nico thinks she might actually care about him, finally.

The line of souls never changes length. It’s always at full capacity. People all around the world die every day, from every possible thing, to every possible age, and every existing race. The waiting room is full, and only when a soul at the beginning of the line is finished going through the judging process, does a soul from the room take its place at the end. 

Souls are restless, so the line is never neat. Nico can tell the order in which everyone has died, so he has little problem forcing them to organize chronologically. Some souls try to skip backward along the line in fear that their eternity will be Asphodel—with no memories of when they were alive—or worse, the Fields of Punishment. There’s no getting out or changing your mind for rebirth once you’re placed in either. 

“Come on,” he pulls them in a single file line, “there’s no escaping it. We all die someday.” He’s not sure what each soul sees him as. With most of the world blissfully unaware of the Greek gods actually being real, Nico can’t say for certain what each soul believes as a substitute. 

Maybe he looks like a demon to them, or another spirit. Maybe an angel, or some monster. He doesn’t know. He’s never bothered to study the world’s religions, past and present. Some of the souls recoil in fear, and others silently follow orders. 

“Where am I going?” one soul asks. It’s of an older man with a bleeding wound in his back. Like if he’d been stabbed. “It’s not Hell is it?” 

That’s another thing Nico hates about being able to see ghosts. They look exactly like how they died. If they’re decapitated in any way, they just carry their head or limbs as they float in the line. If they were severely burned, he can never tell if the soul belonged to a man or a woman. Barnacles are attached to them if they’ve been drowned, or they look clammy. 

He hates seeing the souls of children the most. Sometimes they have bruises around their necks, and sometimes they’re just as physically damaged as the adult ones. He’s always afraid to ask the children how they died. A lot of times, they’re just accidents of curiosity or neglectful parents. Sometimes they just got sick. (The bald children who look just as dead as he feels, he knows they died of some sort of cancer.) 

But sometimes they’re worse, like suffering some trauma right before being killed. He can’t help but answer the children when they ask where they are, or that they want their parent because they’re scared. Usually their mother.

“You don’t need to worry,” Nico says to them. “You’ll be able to rest now.” Children never go into the Fields of Punishment, or at least as far as he’s aware. Their innate innocence lands them in Elysium usually, or Asphodel if they were brats. Babies don’t wait in the line. They’re automatically placed into rebirth, as souls don’t age in their corporeal forms once they’re down here. 

Cerberus is in the distance, watching the souls near his paws as he protects the gate. Seeing a giant, intimidating three-headed dog usually keeps that part of the line willfully organized. 

“N… Nico?” 

The voice freezes his heart and breath. _No, he’s not supposed to—he needs to already be in …_  

He can’t bear the thought of ignoring him, though. So Nico steels his constitution, and turns toward the voice. 

Like all the others, Jason’s soul is a whitish blue. He doesn’t have his glasses, but he does have the gash on his side from the manticore. It bleeds endlessly, but the drips disappear into nothingness. At least he knows it doesn’t hurt him at this point. 

“J-Jason,” he swallows, taking a breath, “what are you doing here?” 

“I… guess I’m dead,” he replies, looking genuinely confused as he stares at the ground. 

“You dork.” And Nico wants to laugh, but he can’t. Not with seeing the reality of his boyfriend’s fate right in front of him. “Don’t even recognize when you’ve…” He sticks his hands in his pockets. “They couldn’t save you,” he adds solemnly after a pause. “You bled out for too long down on the hill.” 

“Oh. I see.” He rubs the back of his neck, glancing around. The other souls in the line don’t pay him attention. “How long does it usually take until somebody gets judged?” 

Nico shrugs, staring at the ground because looking at Jason’s face rips a hole in his heart. “I don’t know. They’ve been slow lately so it could be forever. Time passes by differently down here.”

“And why are you down here?” 

He knows what Jason is going to say if he tells him. He’ll try to convince Nico to go back up to the surface and live his life, that he wouldn’t want him to stop everything just because he’s gone. Jason would say it’s not fair to Nico—that he’s not more important than his well-being. Than his happiness. 

But Jason doesn’t even realize Nico’s happiness died with him. 

“I need to help my dad,” he starts. “There’s a lot to do, and it’s not like…,” he bites his lip, shrugging again and keeping his shoulders hunched, “like there’s a lot for me up there anyway.” 

“Nico, please. Look at me.” 

Dragging his eyes up to his beloved, he prepares himself for the obvious. “I’m sorry that this happened. I’m sorry that I caused you so much pain.” 

“Why are _you_ apologizing? You’re the one who’s _dead._ ” Nico shakes his head. Of course Jason would still think this is his own fault. “If I wasn’t so careless—if I was stronger to protect both you and myself, this would’ve never…” he swallows, “no, please don’t start with your sorry’s or that you want me to find somebody else and—” 

He clenches his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut trying to keep his voice steady. “Because I can’t. I can’t okay? Gods, oh gods Jason. You don’t even realize—I can’t do it.” Nico’s vision fractures, like a kaleidoscope. He still can’t bear to raise his head. “Since Bianca died I’ve tried so hard to move on, to keep living a life. Because she would’ve said the same thing you did—that I shouldn’t stop just because…” 

Finally he looks up at him, tears pushing to the forefront. “I can’t. I’m so tired,” he says weakly. “That’s just how it is. Demigods of Hades never get happy endings. If they do it’s rare. And I think in this lifetime, that luck has gone to Hazel because it sure as hell is never gonna come to me. My mother dying, Bianca dying, now you d—it’s gone. I get it, I _get_ it. I’m not allowed to hope or dream or wish or even be comfortable. Finally, I get it. And I know you don’t want to think about—but I can’t. Please, please don’t make me promise something I just have no will to do anymore.” 

Jason stares back at him, looking just as sad as Nico feels. He doesn’t say anything for a long while. The line moves forward a few paces. Other souls now are staring at him. Nico doesn’t know what they saw in that exchange, but he doesn’t want to look at their faces for a reaction.

“Looks like I have a long way to go,” Jason says, and Nico’s attention returns to him. “Give me a ballpark estimate of how time is like down here.” 

“Huh? Oh,” Nico wipes his eyes with a sleeve, “uh, I-I don’t know. Maybe like, an hour down here is a year up there. I really don’t—I think it changes, but I can ask.”

“Ah, okay.” Jason nods once, staring down at his shoes. He glances at his wound, touching it delicately. “What happened to… my body? Did you guys bury it or cremate it?” 

“Demigod bodies are different than normal mortals’. After a time, they burst into golden dust, just like when a monster is slain. There’s no way to preserve them. Only your glasses were left.” Nico crosses his arms, pressing them tightly against his chest. “If that manticore was still alive, that’d be his spoil—your glasses.” 

“You killed him?”

His fingers dig into his arms. “I don’t remember. Will said some other demigods came to the commotion, but I was already tearing that thing apart limb by limb. Keeping him alive so he suffers and feels every last inch of pain. I kinda… froze the hillside on accident and trees and stuff fell because the ground around me wasn’t stable.” 

“Nico….” 

“I’m not gonna apologize for that,” he says sharply. “It’s not—wasn’t fair that…” 

He stops to breathe, to swallow the sobs begging him to let loose. Jason takes another long pause, then asks, “Can you do something for me?” 

“Yeah, s-sure. What is it?” 

“So since I’m gonna be here for a while, can you tell me how everyone’s doing up there? I…,” he laughs weakly, looking embarrassed, “would like to know how they’re handling everything. Um, and can you tell them that I love them all, and that I had a great time when I was there? Please?” 

“I don’t know how long you’ll be waiting in this line,” Nico says reluctantly. “But yeah, I will. Of course. Uh, I’m gonna—so, I’ll go and do that. You stay—no, no duh you can’t move from this line, I’m stupid.” He begins walking away, backward. “I’ll… come back in a while.” 

“Okay.” Jason smiles weakly at him, giving a wave. “I’ll be here.”

Nico pulls shadows around him, and vanishes. The smile stays etched in his mind through the darkness. 

  
* * * * *  
 

He doesn’t ask Hades why Jason is in the line until several trips later. By this time, three hours have passed down in the Underworld. Nico’s now twenty-one, and looks just as old as Jason did. He always looked slightly more mature than other guys his age. Maybe it was all the muscles. 

“Father,” Nico starts, “I’ve noticed the line is continuing to move slower than usual. By now, half the souls still there would’ve already been judged. And I can’t figure out why it’s taking so long.” 

That’s a lie. He sort of has his suspicions, but he’d rather hear it from Hades himself. 

“We’re understaffed,” replies the god. “Having you here is very helpful.”

“Jason is in the line.” Nico has no time for beating around the bush. “He should’ve gone to Elysium—he died a hero’s death. And he’s the purest guy I’ve ever met.”

“I’ve decided to change up the sorting system.” Hades doesn’t blink, even as Nico holds eye contact. The miserable souls in the god’s cloak fade in and out. “It started with that Octavian boy. He technically died a hero’s death, but he was vile otherwise. I couldn’t have that sort of soul in Elysium. So now, even demigods need to wait in the line. That’s where the delay started. You hadn’t been here many times back then, so you wouldn’t have noticed.” 

“And you just coincidentally needed me to manage the line?”

“Yes.” 

Nico keeps staring at his father, challenging him for the truth. Hades gives a constrained sigh, his fingers drumming on the armrest of the throne. “Death is frightening to mortals because they worry about what it means to live in an eternity. An eternity in which they have no idea if it’ll be peaceful or insufferable. But another big factor is that, for most, death comes unexpectedly. Why do you think so many souls refuse to leave the mortal plane? There’s a lot they wanted to say to people when they were still alive, and now that’s impossible.” 

Hades leans forward, never breaking eye contact with his son. “I suggest you make sure you say everything you need to your loved ones before your own life expires. That is, of course, if you do not wish to become a minor god once your mortal self goes.”

“A minor god?” 

“You’ve accomplished many feats,” his voice goes soft, “and endured so much pain. You shouldn’t have had to go through all of that. But your perseverance has rewarded you with the opportunity of apotheosis, if you wish. You’ll still have the current powers as now, except they’ll be amplified to balance with your new identity.” 

The man sits back in his throne, staring down below at Nico. “But you have the rest of your life to consider it. Don’t ruminate over this so much. Enjoy your mortal life while you can, my son.”

He should’ve known better than to think his father would give him a direct answer. Then again, all gods seem to enjoy giving vague answers to everything. It’s complete bullshit, and he swears he won’t be like that if he does decide to become a god himself.

Jason has moved ten feet in the line in those three hours (years). Nico finds him easily, as Jason looks consistently confused by his surroundings every time he visits. 

“How do you breathe down here?” he asks in place of a greeting. 

Nico lips make a fraction of a smile. “I dunno, really. Percy was able to breathe down here. I think demigods are fine, but I don’t know if regular humans can do the same.” 

“Best if none of them wander in.” Jason looks him over, and hums. “You’re still kinda short. I think you’re gonna stay that small forever, Neeks.” 

“Ass.” Chuckles stay trapped in his chest. “I’m older than you now, so don’t be talking shit.” 

“You’ve always been _technically_ older than me. By now you should be like, a hundred, right? I’ll learn to respect my elders.” 

“Shut up, Grace.” He smacks him on the arm, and Jason laughs. That’s one advantage of being a Hades demigod. If you willed hard enough, you can physically touch souls as if they were solid. 

“Everyone doing okay up there? Are they… good now?” 

“Deep down they’ll never be over your death,” Nico says seriously. “But they’ve learned to adapt to the new norm. On your birthdays, we celebrate by just taking a day to rest.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you never did. Even now you’re still mother-henning everyone from beyond the grave. You really won’t quit, will you?”

“I can’t help it.” Jason smiles sheepishly, scratching his cheek with a finger. “I’m more worried about them now in the afterlife than when I was alive.” 

“Well they’re doing okay, if that’ll help.” 

Nico can’t bear to see Jason too often because then he gets tempted to join him in the line, permanently. So he agrees to visit once every three months. (Or what would be three months up on the surface.) Every time he does, he always has at least one update on a friend.

Percy and Annabeth already graduated college. She’s found a job in New Rome working with the city’s expansion. Percy stays home with Pearl. He enjoys being a house husband, and has gotten a lot better at cooking. Hazel and Frank moved on from their praetorian duties. Now they’re both in college, but haven’t decided what they wanted to do. 

Reyna and Piper still live in their Los Angeles apartment. Piper’s at a cosmetology internship working alongside makeup artists for films. Reyna had considered enlisting in the military—as it’s all she really knows, but then decided against it. She can’t bear to leave Piper alone for so long. And so, she’s decided to take up a business major. Not as ideal as a lawyer in her mind, but it’s less time away from her girlfriend. 

Leo graduated from Cal Tech, and he and Calypso moved several cities over for a job offer. He had brought up the topic of marriage with her, and she said it’s whatever he wanted: she’ll stay with him regardless if they’re married or not. She bakes cakes on her free time, and sometimes sells a few of them to friends and acquaintances. Leo is also collaborating with Annabeth on creating a cell phone for demigods whenever they both have time away from their day jobs.

“You’re still gonna work alongside your dad?” Jason asks. 

Nico gives a shrug. “I guess. Not really interested in doing anything else, to be honest. Never had a passion for anything.” 

“Cooking and art you’re really good at. Maybe you can open a café or something?”

Except he hasn’t cooked in a long while; only when he visits friends. As for his art, he’s been uninspired ever since Jason died. But he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Maybe.” 

And that’s how their conversations go. Jason will greet him happily—having already gotten used to the fact that he’s dead. He never complains about the long wait in the line, and neither does Nico. But when ten years up on the surface passes, and Jason has barely moved another few feet, Nico makes a point to talk to his father about it. 

He finds him in Persephone’s garden. Hades always goes there at least once every Underworld day when she’s gone during half the year. As intimidating as his father is, he’s subtly sentimental when it comes to his wife. 

“Dad,” after working for him for so long, Nico’s gotten more comfortable being less formal with his divine parent, “this isn’t fair.” 

“What are you talking about?” Hades doesn’t turn to him. Merely stays admiring the pomegranate tree with his arms behind his back. 

“You can’t keep Jason held up for eternity in the line. He should’ve been put in Elysium the moment his soul got here.” 

“I’m doing nothing of the sort.” He picks one of the pomegranates, and another grows in its place almost immediately. “In fact, I wanted to send him there a long time ago.” 

“Then why haven’t you?” 

Hades opens the fruit with ease, admiring the shiny seeds within. He sits down on a stygian bench, and gracefully eats them one by one. “For your sake. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, but I’ve moved on.” 

“No, you haven’t.” Hades shakes his head, staring down at his lap. He looks like he wants to sigh, but doesn’t make a sound. All he does is pick more of the seeds from the split fruit. “Nico, I don’t want you to work alongside me just so you can forget your heartache. That will only continue to fracture your own soul.”

“I do want this,” Nico defends. “I wouldn’t have asked—” 

“Begged.” Hades scoops all the seeds from one half of the pomegranate, eating them in one go. When he’s done, he continues, “You _begged_ me to give you work—to be my protégé. Not because you wanted it, but because you’ve given up. You aren’t living life for yourself; you’re only living it for Hazel, and for Reyna, your nieces, and for me. There’s no shame in that, of course, but I also know you force yourself to keep going despite your pain.” 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, or not as much,” he quietly replies. Nico takes a seat next to his father. Out of habit, he almost reaches for the other half of the fruit, but then remembers where he is. “I love seeing my nieces when I can, and to be a part of their childhoods.”

“And you still can. But I’m sure they’d be much happier seeing a genuine smile from you, and not one out of courtesy or obligation.” 

Hades places an arm on his shoulder, his fingers curling gently around it. “Nico, I’m sincerely and gravely sorry that Jason has passed. I had hoped your feelings would brighten within two years, at the very least, if I postponed his judgement. Maybe if I sent you on enough missions, you’d see the joy in being up there on the surface again, perhaps even find a new boy to love. But I severely underestimated how deep those emotions for him ran. I thought I was doing something helpful for my child, but now I see I had only worsened things.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Dad.” 

“I was enabling your misery. That definitely sounds wrong to me.” 

He wants to let go. He really does. But that means never seeing Jason again. If he chooses to be reborn instead of Elysium, then even godhood would prove to be of no comfort to Nico. He’d just have to see Jason over and over again, in each of his every reincarnations, unable to be with him. The guy would be permanently mortal and absolutely human. The chances of a demigod being reborn as a new one somewhere down the line is incredibly rare. 

And Nico has learned that hope is its own level of cruelty.

“I can give you some time to think about it,” Hades offers, removing his hand. “One year, at best. If you haven’t decided by then, I will place him in Elysium. Should he not choose reincarnation, of course.” 

“Okay.” 

It’s all he can really say to an ultimatum like that. 

  
* * * * *

Nico doesn’t celebrate his birthday anymore. Hazel is the only one who continues to put effort into doing a little something for him. Even if it’s just going out to dinner with her and Frank. Those two got married at twenty, and then had a little girl at twenty-three. Her name is Jasmine, and she was just as adorable as Pearl was when she was a baby. But some time has passed since then, and she’s at that ripe age of five where she likes asking a lot of questions. 

“Uncle Nico,” she starts, “Happy Birthday!” Jasmine smiles up at him with large amber eyes, and an innocent smile. “How old are you?” 

“Twenty-eight. Just a year older than your mama.” 

“How much is twenty-eight?” 

Frank ruffles her hair, saying, “Well, what’s five plus five?” 

“Um…,” she scribbles on her activity paper the restaurant provided, “is it ten?” 

“Good job, yes! Now you add ten more, and then eight. Look.” He takes pieces of bread from their basket and rips them up into smaller pieces. Frank counts with Jasmine up to twenty-eight, and she gasps loudly. 

“That’s a lot of little bread balls, Papa!” She plucks one from the pile and slips it in her mouth. “Does that mean Uncle Nico is really old?” 

“Kinda.” 

Nico shakes his head, the slightest of smiles on his lips. “That’s still young Jasmine, but I do feel old.” 

“It’s okay, Uncle Nico. Just eat a lot of veggies and fruit and you’ll feel better,” she says, as if it’s the answer to all the world’s problems. He misses that childhood innocence. 

Hazel returns from her trip to the restroom, taking her seat across from him right next to her daughter. “Sorry, I’m sorry. The line was just so _long._ I’m starting to wonder if something’s up with the food.” 

“We already ordered; but if it makes you feel better, remember that we’re demigods and can’t get food poisoning.” 

“Doesn’t mean we still won’t spend three hours on the can!” 

Their food isn’t, in fact, infected or even old. It’s quite good actually. The only Italian restaurant Nico likes in New Rome. The others are too posh and trendy. He’s always preferred hole-in-the-wall establishments. Food feels genuine and made with love, and the service is usually better. Now that he has another niece to spoil, he keeps her in mind when ordering their appetizers. He’ll get whatever she can eat comfortably, and he never forgets dessert. But Hazel only lets her have a little, otherwise she’ll be up all night. 

No dessert this time around, as a complimentary birthday tiramisu is delivered to them at the end of their meal. There’s a single white candle on it, and Nico endures the embarrassing attention as the waiters sing him the ‘Happy Birthday’ song.

“Can I help blow out the candle?” Jasmine asks. 

“Of course. We’ll do it on three, okay? One, two, three!” 

Her little cheeks puff up like a chipmunk’s as she puts in all the effort to blow. Nico’s is softer, and he compliments her on a job well done. “I couldn’t have done it without your help, Jazzy.” She only offers a giggle and another smile before asking Hazel if she can have some. 

“Yes, but only a little, okay?” She nicks a corner of the squared-off pastry with a fork, putting it on a small plate for her daughter. “You won’t be able to sleep if it’s too much.” 

When they’re done eating, they take the drive home. Nico has long abandoned the Ambassador’s Villa, and now spends his visit’s in the house Hazel and Frank live in. She didn’t ask him why the first time he told her. Instead she gave a look of understanding, before offering the guest bedroom to him. 

Jasmine, much like Pearl, is an energetic little kid. Yet the small piece of tiramisu does nothing to keep her awake. In the car she fell asleep, so Frank takes her up to her room, biding Nico good night. 

Hazel makes some coffee, and Nico keeps her company in the kitchen. It has an oval island countertop in the center. Nothing goes there except napkins and a small decorative plant. 

“So,” she starts softly, handing him his mug of coffee. It’s black and has a cute simplistic cat face on it in white, “did you decide? The year mark is almost up.” 

“I know,” his hands curl around the warmth of the mug, “and no I haven’t. I… I want to let him go—really, I do. But I also know that I won’t ever see him again if that happens.” He rubs a hand over his face. “And I don’t know why this is so hard, because I was able to move on from Bianca and my mother—my literal family. But Jason…” 

She rubs a soothing hand along his back. “Maybe he’ll pick Elysium. And if you take Dad’s offer of godhood, then you can see him whenever you want.” 

Nico shakes his head. “Jason will feel like it’s his fault I haven’t lived my life; haven’t found somebody else. I’m nearly thirty, and I’m still mourning him. But visiting him so often definitely didn’t help.” 

“Did you ever tell him that you loved him?” 

He can’t. Because it doesn’t matter anymore. Jason’s dead, and expressing his true feelings now won’t do any good for anyone. 

“There’s no point,” he replies quietly. “He’s going to feel bad, I know he is. And I… admitting that aloud to myself, to _him_ , it’s just gonna open all the wounds again.”

“You can’t keep torturing yourself like this, though.” Hazel stares into her coffee mug, frowning. “Nico, I’ll never know how severe your heartache was—still is. None of our friends ever will either, or even Dad. But please, you deserve to heal and be happy. You and I both know that ghosts stuck here on the surface don’t leave for one reason, and one reason only: unfinished business. Did you ever think that maybe… maybe Dad has been keeping Jason in that line because _he_ hasn’t moved on either?”

No, no he hasn’t. All this time, he was sure Jason has accepted he’s dead. But he’s so good at faking being fine, and becoming a ghost wouldn’t change that. Why didn’t Nico consider this possibility before? Hades has complete control over the departed, and so even lingering ghosts will be forced down to the Underworld, regardless if they’re tied to the surface by regrets or not. Jason wouldn’t be any different. 

“I… I never—no. I guess I just assumed he was ready. When Jason was alive, and he knew his lifespan was shortened, he seemed so prepared to die at any given moment. No matter how many times he was reminded, he never seemed all that bothered about it.” 

“Except if there was something he couldn’t bear to leave behind. I think both you and I know what that something is.” 

She’s right. Jason always puts others before himself. And the one person he seemed to care about above all others, was Nico. Would he really refuse to pass on, just so Nico’s not lonely? Did Hades know this about Jason, and that’s also why his turn for judgement has been taking years? 

_That idiot. He really can’t fucking help himself, can he? That stupidly kind and considerate imbecile…._

Hazel doesn’t bring it up anymore that night. She only asks that he tell her what he decides when he’s good and ready. “I’ll support you regardless of what you choose to do.” 

Nico takes his time mulling it over, though. He waits for the months to pass by, but doesn’t visit Jason. Not yet. He wants to wait until his literal grace period is almost over. And so in July, he returns to the Underworld after another assignment from Hades. 

His father is sitting on his throne again, reading some large ominous tome. There’s an embellishment of a skull on the cover, and the spine is decorated with small gemstones. When Hades notices his son at the bottom of the dais, he quietly closes the book, making a dog ear mark on the corner of the last page he was on. 

“Was the assignment successful?” he asks.

“Yes. That dumb reality ghost show is gonna end soon, considering the house has been purged.” 

“Excellent. Perhaps now they’ll find real jobs instead of disturbing the deceased. So many of the living have such little respect for ghosts, especially ones who were all slaughtered in their homes.” 

Hades gets up from his throne, and disappears in a cyclone of shadows. He reappears next to Nico, now in a normal human size. “While we’re on the topic of the dead…” 

“I’ve decided,” he replies, swallowing. “But I… I need to talk to him first.” 

“Very well. I shall give you your privacy then. Just don’t take too long.” 

The god snaps his fingers, and then Jason is standing there in the middle of the throne room. His eyes are wide, blinking, and he looks around completely bewildered. “I… wh-what?” He quickly bows when he sees Hades, but doesn’t get a response from the god. 

“I shall return in a short while. Say everything you need to.” 

When they’re left alone, Jason stands and turns to Nico. “Uh, wh-where am I?” 

“My dad’s throne room. He poofed you here.” 

“But now I lost my spot in the line.” 

Nico manages to smile, shaking his head. “You’re still such a huge dork. Jason, it’s fine. You won’t… have to wait any longer once we’re done talking.” 

“What did you need to talk to me about?” 

They sit together on the lowest step of the dais. Nico keeps the pause for a solid two minutes, and Jason doesn’t do or say anything to disrupt it. “My father offered me godhood,” he starts. “It was a few years ago. Gave me a lot of time to think about it.” 

“Nico that’s great!” Jason smiles at him, looking genuinely pleased. “You deserve something like this, especially after all you’ve done. Are you going to take it?” 

“Yeah, I am. But I can’t—not yet, not until I’ve…,” he takes a breath, “Jason, I need to apologize. Please, just hear me out.” 

“Okay,” comes the soft reply.

“It’s my fault you were waiting so long in that line. You should’ve gone to Elysium the moment your soul left your body. Or at the very least, gone to judgement before all the others. But you didn’t, all because my dad was trying to do what he thought would help me.” 

His throat feels heavy, and he swallows the feeling away. “It didn’t do much good. It kept you here a lot longer than you needed to be. I’ve been selfish and unfair. Jason, I’ve tried really hard to move on from your death. But visiting you so often—visiting my friends _just_ so I can have an excuse to come down here to see you, it’s all my fault. You should’ve been resting already but I couldn’t let go. Yeah I can see you like this but it isn’t the same like if you were still alive.” 

Nico grips his knees, fingernails digging through the fabric of his jeans. “I miss your hugs, your laugh, your smile, the warmth of your skin, your gentle touches and stupid jokes and your cooking and your kisses—all of it. I miss it so, _so_ damn much,” and here his voice begins to break, “because I’ve never cared about anyone so deeply before.” 

Swallowing again, he glances at the soul next to him. “I love you, Jason Grace. I was so afraid to say it when you were alive, because I knew in my gut something like _this_ ,” he gestures to the wound at Jason’s side, “was gonna happen if I made it real. But now I realize it doesn’t fucking matter. You were too good to be true, and I’m not allowed to have something wonderful like that.” 

He looks away, wiping at his eyes with a sleeve. “You still need to know how much I love you. I love you so much that I can’t let you go. But it’s not fair, and you deserve to be at peace. You deserve Elysium, and I… can always visit you anyway. If I choose godhood, that is.” 

Nico sniffs, pulling his sleeves over his hands. “I feel a little better finally admitting it to myself. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. Never will again, either. And I’ve been your friend long enough to know that you just can’t help but put others before yourself.” 

Finally, he looks at him, eye to eye. “You refused to pass on because you didn’t want me to be lonely, didn’t you?”

Jason looks away, tracing the lines of his palms. “Caught me,” he laughs weakly. “I’m… I’m sorry, Nico. I was being selfish too. Yeah, I didn’t want you to be lonely. But I also didn’t want to stop seeing you. You were the most important person to me—still are, and I knew that I’d never see you again once I passed on for good.” 

“There’s Elysium.” 

“Yeah, but…” Jason shakes his head, “there was so much I wanted to do for you, to give you. I wanted to share my life with you for a long time. I wanted to give you things you deserve. And maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic, but I legitimately fantasized about marrying you one day. Owning a house with you, even raising kids together, going on vacations—the works. You deserve to be happy, Nico. I’m just sorry I only brought you heartache.” 

He looks to him with a smile, but his eyes reflect only the threat of tears. “Because it’s true what I had told Cupid. I love you more than anyone else in my life. I’d fight all of Olympus even. I’m just sorry I couldn’t stay alive long enough to show you every day how much you mean to me.” 

“Dummy, it’s not you f-fault.” Nico gives a weak sob, shutting his eyes. “You always blame yourself. But you didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have been so afraid—should’ve talked to you about everything way sooner. But it’s too late now.” 

“No, it’s not.” Jason rests a hand on the small of his back. It doesn’t feel warm, or even cold. “We can start over.” 

“What? Jace, your body is gone, not your mind.”

A soft chuckle escapes his lips in response. “I meant that… um, we could—or I could, actually. Yeah, because you’ll be a god, right?” 

“I literally don’t know what you’re trying to say.” 

“Rebirth,” he says plainly. “I get that choice because my soul is good enough for Elysium. Isn’t that how this works?” 

Yes, it is. Good souls do get placed in the only paradise of the Underworld. However, they can also choose to be reborn. Some because they liked living too much, and others because they want to spend their eternity on the Isles of the Blessed. 

It’s still risky. There’s absolutely no guarantee a soul that gets reborn will end up back in Elysium. Every new reincarnation leads a different life than the last. But it can be done. Just that, the Isles have so few inhabitants, even less than Elysium—it proves the theory right. Only a pinch of souls get that extremely lucky to earn paradise three times in a row. 

All this he explains to Jason, but the guy doesn’t seem the least bit concerned.

“If it means I can meet you again, then I’ll do it.” 

Of course he’d say that. 

“Jason, you won’t _remember._ What’s the point?” 

“You will. And if I fell for you now, I’m positive I’ll fall for you in all my other lives.” 

“But I’ll be a god.” 

“So? You can still have a romance with a mortal.”

“No, no I don’t—for once, Jason, please make a decision for yourself! Do what _you_ want, not what’ll make _me_ happy!” 

“This _is_ what I want.” He takes both of Nico’s hands in his, and he thinks he can imagine the warmth radiating off of them. “I want another shot with you. And at least this way, one of us will be able to find the other. We might not always meet in every one of my lifetimes, but ‘sometimes’ is better than ‘never’. Right?” 

He really is something else. So enthusiastically optimistic, even in the worst of situations. Jason truly believes that Nico will find him again in another life. But it’s not that simple. Souls don’t come back the same. In each new life cycle, their features will always be a little different than the last. If they’re reborn enough times, yeah there’s a chance they’ll be identical to one of their previous appearances. But most—if not always—a soul never has a set mortal form. The hair color changes, or the eyes. The physical condition of the body.

Sometimes they live as a different gender, or even race. Different social class, and a different part of the world. No human soul lives exactly as long as their previous life either. How is Nico supposed to find Jason over and over with so many possibilities giving him a disguise? 

All this he explains to him. Not that Nico wouldn’t try—oh would he _ever_ —but they still might not meet for decades apart, or even for hundreds of years.

“It does sound pointless when you put it like that,” he agrees. “I still wanna give it a shot.”

“Jason, but what if your next life…,” Nico shakes his head, “and you do know how incredibly hard it is for a soul to be sent to Elysium three times, right? It’s even hard to go there _once._ If you don’t live as a good person, you’ll get sent to Asphodel or the Fields, and that’s the end! _Forever!_ ” 

“I won’t.”

“ _How_ do you know that?” 

“All souls that exist right now, they were already created long ago, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“Which means my soul has already lived several life times. If it was truly meant to be wicked, I would’ve already been in Asphodel or the Fields.” 

“Sometimes I wonder if your optimism is just you being stupid and not wanting to admit it.” 

Jason laughs, patting Nico on the back. “This is what I want. And now that you’ve told me the truth, that you really do love me back, that’s all the motivation I need to try again.” His hand comes up to Nico’s cheek, thumb stroking gently along cold skin. “I’m _will_ find you again, Nico di Angelo, and I’ll love you just as much. Will you still love me?” 

“I’ll never love anyone as much as I love you. That’s the one thing I’m sure of.” 

He doesn’t get to say much more after that. Hades returns, and tells him it’s time for Jason to be judged. But he’s lenient in that he allows Nico to sit in and watch. Jason is placed at the front of the line meanwhile the soul before him gets examined. 

There are always three judges, and only of souls who got to go to Elysium. Hades picks them himself. At one point he had considered having a judge from each area of the afterlife. But souls from the Fields had little to no morality. The ones from Asphodel were more reliable, but too many got jealous over the good souls who were allowed rebirth or paradise. Elysium souls were the fairest in the long run. 

When it’s their turn, each soul stands on a small pedestal at the center of a circular platform. Bordering it are Greek columns with green flames burning brightly at the very top. Each one is about a hundred feet high. The judges all sit behind a fifty-foot ornate desk of stone. Their souls are automatically enlarged relative to their seats, and only their upper bodies are visible as their arms lean against the top slab. 

This desk has three doorways at the very bottom. Above each one is a pediment reflecting the afterlife it leads to: the left is Asphodel, the middle is Elysium, and the right is the Fields. Below the pediment and just above the top of the doorway, is a magical slab that takes inventory of how many souls are currently in each location. Asphodel has the most, followed by the Fields. Unsurprisingly, Elysium is the smallest, only having a couple of thousand recorded.

You can’t see the judges’ faces. They all wear hooded cloaks that covers their eyes and a good portion of their noses. 

“Let’s see who we have next,” the middle one says. They stretch out the scroll where Jason’s history is written. “This is the 499th time your soul has returned. You are _long_ overdue for Elysium. Says here in this last life cycle you were a bisexual Caucasian male—oh, a _demigod_ of Jupiter this time—and went by Jason Alexander Grace. Born July 3 rd, and died on May 20th at the age of nineteen. Killed by a wound from a manticore. Bled out slowly.”

The other two judges go quickly through their own scrolls, recounting Jason’s whole life up to the day he died. They don’t miss a single detail, not even the romantic partners he’s had. Nico’s heart clenches when he hears his name, and he tries his best not to think about it. 

“Well,” the middle judge says, “we’ve looked over your history and there’s no reason for you not to go to Elysium. Aside from being an exemplary mortal, you died protecting a helpless demigod child and your boyfriend—who is Lord Hades’s son, if I’m reading this right.” 

A light shines from the center doorway at the bottom of the enclosed stone desk. “ _Please_ , take paradise this time. You’ve gotten astronomically lucky that your 499 life cycles were always good people. But that could change at any moment. We have no record of Lord Zeus offering you godhood either, and you’ve been waiting for ten years. So that’s out of the question. Elysium then, correct?” 

Jason looks to where Nico is standing idly by a column. He gives him a warm smile, and that typical affectionate gaze he’s so used to seeing, and one he’ll miss. 

“Actually,” he turns to the judges, “I’d like to choose rebirth, please.” 

The judges on the side groan and smack their heads on the desk. The center one slouches back in their chair, sighing loudly. “ _No_ , not again. _Gods!_ ” They suddenly lean forward, even over the edge of the slab’s smooth top. “Jason Alexander Grace, are you _absolutely_ one-hundred percent _certain_ you want to risk being reborn again? This cannot be undone once you’re thrown back into the pool! You’ve earned a spot on the Isles a hundred times over! Take it!”

“I’m truly grateful that I’ve been this fortunate. But there’s something I need to do in my next life. And once that’s complete, I promise I’ll finally choose paradise.” 

Sighing in frustration, the judge sits back. “Very well.” The light disappears from the Elysium doorway. All three portals vanish into the slab, and a new door opens. It has an iridescent film on it, as if light is trapped behind it. The only symbol above the doorway is an outline of a circle. 

“Good luck on your next life cycle,” all three judges say. “May the Fates be merciful once again.” 

Nico sprints forward, but only gets as far as the edge of the desk’s bottom corner before he’s pushed backward. Jason walks down the steps, and stops at rebirth’s doorway. 

“I love you Nico,” he says for the last time. “And I’ll find you again; I promise.” 

He swallows a sob, and takes a breath. “I love you too, Jason. I’ll never stop.” 

With one last smile, Jason steps through the doorway. The film is gelatinous, and sucks him inside before the whole thing disappears altogether. 

“Next soul step forward,” the center judge calls. 

And just like that, the love of his life is gone. Not for good. No, he can’t bear to think like that. For Jason’s sake, Nico prays the Fates at least like _him_ enough in his new cycle. If they don’t find each other, he hopes Jason’s soul will at least pick paradise. 

People like Nico aren’t worth so much effort, anyway. 

  
* * * * *  
 

It’s when he dies at age eighty-three does Nico finally accept godhood. All his friends are dead by this time, from Reyna to Will, and all of them have accepted Elysium as their final resting place. Thalia was the last to kick the bucket. She’s the only one of Nico’s friends who chose to be reborn. 

“I want another shot at being Jason’s sister, a good one this time,” was the only explanation she gave before stepping into the doorway. 

Time stops mattering once you’ve lived more than two hundred years. Nico’s been made into the god of wandering souls, grieving, and merciful deaths. He’s also the god of subtle fortune, like finding a quarter on the ground or getting an extra Snickers bar in the vending machine because there was a computer error. 

He has, in fact, found Jason in those two hundred years. The guy’s been reborn thrice so far. Like Nico had suspected, Jason’s soul looked different every time. He also passed away at different ages.

First new life, he died at the age of seven. It was a day at a park in Texas, and Nico only knows it was Jason because of his mother. She had smiled at Nico, waiting for the crosswalk’s light to change. Made idle conversation about the heat. Maybe it was her blue eyes or the freckles on her cheeks—no, it was the way she laughed. It reminded him of Thalia’s laugh. 

She had been reborn as Jason’s mother. And Jason himself was an Italian-American brunet boy. He face was rounder, and he was slightly chubby, but he definitely looked like the little Jason that Nico had seen in that dreamscape so many years ago. The one where the stress of leadership was crushing Jason’s own soul back at Camp Half-Blood. 

But Nico didn’t get to talk to him. He was too bewildered at that time, staring between the new identities of Thalia and Jason. Before he can even get more than three words in, little Jason gets hit by a car while crossing the street. And then Nico knows for sure that his mother was Thalia, because she cried in exactly the same way as when the previous Jason had passed. 

The second time happened thirty years later. He came back as a Japanese girl. She died while on a Mediterranean cruise with some college friends. Fell overboard one night. Nico had been on that ship to extract an old ghost. And the third time was eighty years later. He had lived as a Puerto Rican man in that new cycle, and didn’t die until he was in his seventies because of a heart attack. It was in the middle of a grocery store. And Nico was there visiting the island for yet another job. 

He can’t explain how he knew, for sure, that all of them were once Jason. Each one had asked him if he was lost. There was something about the way they looked at him, with the tilt of their heads, and the smiles on their lips, their eyes bright. “I feel like I know you,” or some variation of the words. Whether they had seen him in a dream or whatever, all their smiles felt exactly the same. Dorky and sincere. 

If he tried hard enough, he could still see _his_ Jason in their faces. 

And every time, he’d be there watching as they were judged on that pedestal. Yet again choosing to be reborn. 

Nico has lived five hundred years now. Immortality is this thing that mortals romanticize. But it actually kind of sucks a lot. Especially with the Greek gods. Now that he’s no longer off limits, several gods and goddess have tried to court him. (Something about being ‘hauntingly’ beautiful, or some other bullshit.) They’re all met with rejection. And the ones who transform themselves to look like Jason are met with his rage and the wrong end of his sword. 

Because they know. All of Olympus does at this point. 

He only wants to do his job well and watch over each of Jason’s new life cycles. Nico makes an effort to keep count of the different forms his soul takes. Male nine times out of ten, but otherwise it varies in age and appearance. He never finds any of his rebirths in time to actually establish a solid friendship, let alone a romantic relationship. There’s always some problem. Jason is either already in a happy relationship or even the head of a family. Other times he’s simply too young or too old. Or he just dies too soon after their encounter, like a day later or even a month. None of Jason’s rebirths give the opportunity for reunion before the inevitable. 

Nico should’ve known the Fates wouldn’t allow him to have even this. 

_I’m so sorry, Jason. I haven’t been able to be with you at all in these five hundred years…._  

Another annoying thing about being a god is that he has an eternity of dealing with his new kin. Cupid being one of them. 

That bastard hasn’t approached him since the time back on the roof of Piper’s mansion. But at least now he’s strong enough to kick his ass, maybe even kill him. 

“Go away before I slice your head off,” Nico threatens. “Am I not even allowed to sit on this boulder in the middle of nowhere Canada without someone trying to fuck me? You’re the absolute _last_ god I want anything to do with.” 

“I’m not here to antagonize you.” Yet he still looks exactly like Jason. “I wish to make amends. It’s been a long time since we last met, and we left on a bad note.”

“Oh gee, I _wonder_ why.” 

“Nico—” 

“Do _not_ call me that. You don’t have the _right._ I’m Lord Angelo now, so fucking use it.” 

“Very well, Angelo. May I sit?” 

“I’d rather you disappear forever, actually.” 

Cupid ignores him, and sits a foot away on the boulder. There’s a lake that rests in front of them. The trickles of dawn begin to paint the sky in warm hues nestled underneath the blue and purple.

“There is no reason to torture yourself this way,” Cupid starts. “As children of Aphrodite, we know everlasting heartache when we see it. Consider abandoning your futile attempts at reuniting with Jason. He’s never the same in each life cycle. The only constant is that he keeps choosing rebirth, and he doesn’t know for what—he just knows he has to. Why do you think that is?” 

“How am I supposed to know?” 

“You’re still too young of a god to understand, and you’ve been mortal before this. But every soul is part of another whole. And the reason why my mother’s domain dominates over so many others, is because all souls are trying to find their missing piece. Many never will because their other piece is in one of three eternal resting places. Those who choose rebirth still have a chance. You’re unique in that your soul isn’t that of a god’s, but a mortal.” 

“And?” 

“Do you believe in soulmates, Angelo?”

He scoffs. “That’s a marketing ploy for Valentine’s Day at best.” 

“But it’s true. Why do you think Jason keeps choosing to be reborn? He’s missing his other piece. Something inside that particular soul is saying it’s still out there—that it still has a chance to rejoin. Most souls don’t feel that unless there was one.” 

“What are you saying? That Jason’s being reborn over and over because his soulmate keeps calling to him in some magical way? And that he needs to find them because the universe is giving him this feeling in _all_ of his new lives?” 

“He already has. Or has at least seen them even in passing. In every life cycle, actually. And right now, he’s sitting next to me.” 

No. 

No this is _not_ happening.

This is not fair. It just _isn’t._  

“You making fun of me?” Nico stands up, fists clenched at his sides. “You think this is fucking hilarious, seeing me watch over him time after time, knowing that it’ll never be the same? Is that why you came to find me? To make me pissed?” 

“I’m not saying this in jest.” Cupid steps back, his wings relaxed behind him. “My mother has known for the longest time you and Jason are soulmates. But you’re a god now, and so he has little hope of—” 

“Shut up!” Nico draws his sword from his back. “You can’t say shit like that and expect me to take it seriously!” 

“But I am being serious. My mother has just finally given permission to let this truth out. I’m the only one who knows, aside from her. She pities you, and wants to give you a chance. Your enduring love for Jason has won her over.” 

 “Well it would’ve been nice to fucking know when he was still _my_ Jason!” The boulder cracks beneath his feet. “I can’t just stop what I’m doing! I’m a god now and I have responsibilities!”

Cupid spreads his wings, ruffling them so feathers shed from their layers. “What you choose to do with this information is entirely up to you. I was simply tasked with relaying the fact. It took a while to find you, actually. You spend so much time in the Underworld and the shadows.” 

“Ever consider that I don’t wanna be found?” 

The god hums, shaking his head. “That is all I have to say. But I was also honest in wanting to make amends. I have nothing personal against you, Angelo. Even when you were still mortal. I’m only doing my job. But you weren’t born as a god, so no matter how many centuries you live as one, I don’t believe you’ll ever truly understand the way we think. Until another time, then.” 

He disappears in a flurry of feathers. The scattered ones are carried off on the winds. 

Nico ends up destroying an entire row of trees in his rage. He gets reprimanded by the dryads living there, but he doesn’t give enough of a shit to care.

Cupid’s words eat at him for the next hundred years. He only decides to do something about it when Jason’s current form chooses rebirth yet again. He was murdered this time. Some psychopath who enjoyed killing people and then severing all their limbs and head. The thing that sucked the most about it, was that this Jason looked almost identical to the one Nico used to know.

That last image of him became the breaking point. 

“Father,” he slumps to his knees, bowing again in Hades’s throne room, “I never want to disappoint you, but I can’t keep doing this. I thought I could, but Jason keeps choosing to be reborn because he’s instinctively trying to find me and I…,” he swallows, letting the tears drop to the cold marble floor, “that last one—I can’t take it anymore. I have to… I need to find him so he can stop. So he can finally rest.” 

He looks up at the elder god. Hades is looking down at him with a stoic face, pointer finger tapping gently on the armrest of the throne. “You’ve done good work in these six-hundred years,” he starts. “Do you not like your job?” 

“No, no of course I do. But I… I’m sorry, Father. I just can’t stand to see Jason doing this over and over. And even if I were to be with him, he’s still a mortal and will keep trying to find me until something _works._ But that means nothing if I’m not doing my part either.” 

Reluctantly, he confesses to his father what Cupid had said a hundred years ago. At first Nico didn’t believe it. But seeing Jason choose the same fate, seeing the judges exasperated to the point where they just assume that’s what he always wants now, and even giving a side-eye glance to Nico—as if it’s his fault the soul can’t rest for good, no. No he can’t let this keep happening.

“This action is permanent,” Hades grimly reminds. “Even if you choose Elysium in your next life, you won’t remember Hazel, your nieces, or your friends. You would seriously choose to rescind immortality as a god, and the memories of your loved ones, all for one person?”

“Jason meant everything to me, Father. He still does. I failed him in our old lives, and I want a chance to start over.”

“Even so, there’s no guarantee you two will meet again, or for how often.” 

“But I have to try. For his sake. I _want_ to see him again, to be in love with him and spend a mortal life together, no matter how short. Cupid is an asshole, but he’s not a liar. If Jason really is my soulmate, then I _will_ see him again. I know I will.” 

“This is…,” Hades sighs, rubbing his temple, “…Nico, are you certain you want this?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Father.”

“There is nothing to apologize for. I just wish things would’ve turned out happier for you both, so it wouldn’t come to this.” 

He shrinks down once again to a normal human height. Hades takes a long look at him, a frown on his face. “Would you like to tell Hazel and the others in Elysium?” 

Nico shakes his head, rising to his feet. “No. It’ll only give them an eternity of worry. I haven’t spoken to them in a long time, either. As far as they know, I’m busy doing my job. I’d like to keep it that way.” 

“Very well.” Hades places his hands on Nico’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “Then, I wish you all the best of luck, my son. You have made me proud to be a father, especially to a child such as yourself. Maria would feel the same. Know that I do love you, even if I say it sparingly. I’m not the best with expressing my feelings.”

“I know, Dad. And thanks; I feel the same way, too.”

Because he’s the son of the Underworld’s king, Nico gets to cut in the line of souls. He’s not so privileged that Hades can just transport him to the rebirth portal. Some of the other souls complain about him cutting, but it’s not like they can do anything about it.

“This is interesting,” the center judge says, taking out a scroll from their sleeve. “We’ve never had a mortal-turned-god in this line before.” They unfurl the scroll, reading off from the top. “This is the 478th time you’ve been reborn—yet another soul who just _refuses_ to rest, good gods. Before you became a god, you were a homosexual Italian male that went by the name Niccolo di Angelo, the son of our very own Lord Hades. Born on January 28 th, then suspended in time for several decades in the Lotus Hotel when you were about ten. Began to age again after you were let out, and finally died on December 3rd at eighty-three from a misstep with a gorgon. You killed her but also died in the process due to your advanced age. Your courageous and selfless acts throughout two divine wars, among doing an excellent job in godhood, rightfully gives you a permanent spot in Elysium.” 

“Actually, I’d like to be reborn.” 

“Oh for the love of—,” the judge smacks the scroll down on the table, “you can’t be serious. What is it with you and that other tenacious soul who just refuses paradise?! Did you know your two souls are the only ones who have been reborn this many times?” 

“Kinda had a feeling, yeah.” 

Sitting back in their seat, the judge sighs. “This action is irreversible. Are you absolutely one-hundred- _fifty_ percent certain you want to be reborn?” 

“There’s someone I need to see again. I know there’s no guarantee I will, but I love him enough that I’m not afraid to take that chance. Not anymore.” 

“Let us hope then that the Fates show you mercy in your next life.” 

Nico steps down from the pedestal, glancing one last time at his father. Hades gives a nod, not moving from his spot. The door opens on the slab, and Nico sticks his hand in. It does feel gelatinous, like he suspected, and even stains his palm with some glittery substance. 

_I’m coming Jason._  

He pushes through the film, and then his mind goes blank.

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see! Yes, I’m back with more Jasico content! And of course it had to be angst. It’s not a story by me if there’s no angst. Lol So like I said in the above spoiler warning, this was the alternate ending to my long fic _Homebound_ , or at least a variation of what I had in mind. Bittersweet, wasn’t it? I also took some creative liberties with the PJO-verse canon if you couldn’t already tell.
> 
> But after writing this, I realized I missed producing Jasico content. However, I don’t have any solid ideas/plots for a brand new multi-chapter fic for them. Therefore, I decided to make a prompt fic, and this is the first installment!
> 
> That’s right: you can send me Jasico prompts and I’ll upload them here for everyone else to read. Please be as specific and detailed as possible; those prompts will get written first since I have a better idea on what to do. Or if you’re not specific, I may combine it with another general prompt, and so on.
> 
> However, there are a few rules and points to know. [You can read them here](http://leporidaes.tumblr.com/jasicoprompts). Please refer back to this page if you ever forget.
> 
> Eh, I’ve edited this first chapter three times, but if there are still any errors, I’ll eventually come back to fix them. As I will with all future installments.
> 
> I look forward to writing again for this lovely ship! ❤
> 
> And no, it’s not a coincidence I uploaded this on Valentine’s Day either. :)


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